Yellowfang's Secret
by Lonely Impostor
Summary: My version of how I thought Yellowfang's Secret should have gone. Please R&R, it'd be appreciated :D
1. Chapter 1

_**Prologue**_

* * *

_The dawn air was heavy with mist and _contained the a faraway chill that hinted at the end of greenleaf. Despite the sun rising behind the heavy graying clouds, the shadows of the thick boggy trees casted over the clearing and all who dwelled in it. The morning is quiet, almost eerily so, only to be interrupted by the solumn stirring of cats, the dreading pattering of paws, and Stonetooth quietly calling the dawn patrol.

Mistface lifts her eyes from Larchtail's still form and gazes around the group of cats, all sharing their grief for their fallen friend. Larchtail had been her denmate once, before StarClan called on him for a different destiny. His death was sudden to all of ShadowClan, who all loved their medicine cat and held him with as much loyalty as the cats who fought on the field. The one who took it the hardest was Sagewhisker, his apprentice who only earned her name just a few sunrises ago. Larchtail was a quick, agile cat despite his age, but the adder was quicker.

Sagewhisker sat beside her former mentor now, her flattened muzzle buried in his dusky brown fur. Her mother Dovefur sat beside her, her stomach swollen with unborn kits. They held vigil along with Mistface and the others, sharing tongues while Larchtail, young and in his prime again, found his way to StarClan.

Mistface stood up, holding back a squeak of pain. She had only joined the elders' den last moon, but age was a slow thing that has been creeping up on her for some time. Morning dew had begun to settle into her pale pelt. Beside her, Brindlestar rose to her paws. Brindlestar had been their leader for many moons, and despite age beginning to wind into her path, she still stood tall and straight and brimming with confidence. But there was no ignoring the clear haze of grief in her eyes as she lowered her nose and pressed it against Larchtail's for the last time.

"Adders in our own nests," Rosewood's voice was a harsh whisper into Mistface's ear. "The poor cat barely saw it coming."

"Seedfur killed it." Mistface murmured back, remembering the look of disbelief on the black warrior's face and the horror on his mate's face when she thought he'd been bit too. Seedfur's disability was one he kept quiet about, and many cats in the other Clans did not know of it, but his claws were sharp and his wits were quick, and ShadowClan may sleep soundly for now, now that the snake was dead. "It was a freak thing. No one could have predicted it."

Rosewood's words were loud enough for the others to hear. "It's a omen of hard times to come. Who can we trust if we are not safe in our own dens?"

Squirrelfur, the last elder of their group, merely sighed, making his frazzled whiskers fluttered. His tongue was as sharp as a hawk's talons, but being a denmate with Rosewood for so long taught him that nothing could argue with her paranoia. Mistface didn't blame him. Whenever StarClan became a topic of anything, she always found herself silent.

Brindlestar stood up. Her long tortoiseshell pelt didn't contain a single fleck of white, but a long graying scar across his flank was easy to distinguish. She gazed at the old medicine cat once again and began to speak. "Larchtail was a noble cat." She began. "He was a dear friend to the Clan, with a natural compassion and tranquility air to him, but with the bravery and determination of the fiercest warrior. He will be missed by all of ShadowClan."

In the quiet of the dawn, a voice popped up. "May I speak, Brindlestar?"

Brindlestar lifted her gaze to one of the warriors, a handsome tom with a thick, orange pelt. She nodded slowly, "You may, Flameclaw."

"Thank you." Flameclaw had been Mistface's apprentice, her last apprentice. He was a young warrior, but even a blind cat could see the potiental with every ripple of his fur. Mistface couldn't help but feel pride within her as her former apprentice stood in the center of the clearing. All eyes turned on him; even the dawn patrol consisting of Rockfang, Poolcloud, and Nettlespots turned to listen.

"We lost a hero today." Flameclaw began. The first dawn rays of sunshine casted upon his pelt. "Larchtail has been among us for countless moons, healing us and speaking with the stars for us. It takes careful paws to create miracles, and I've seen Larchtail do it time and time again." Flameclaw padded close to Talonwind, who stood solemnly beside Crowtail.

"Talonwind, when you went against those ThunderClan rats and showed them the power that dwells in every ShadowClan cat, who brought you back to health?"

Talonwind lifted his head. "Larchtail did." The senior warrior said, his claws flexing as if ThunderClan fur were beneath them.

Flameclaw turned to a ginger flecked warrior. "And Nettlespots, when your kit lay still and ridden with greencough, who gave him the chance to grow into one of our warriors?"

Nettlespots casted a worrying glance at Brackenpaw, who was just stumbling out of his den with Hollypaw, as if the young cat were still sickened with the disease. "Larchtail did."

Flameclaw turned back to the mass of cats. "We lost a friend, we lost a medicine cat, we lost a hero." He meowed. His voice was loud and strong, as if he were standing on the High Boulder itself. _He will be Clan Leader someday, I know it._ "But we do have something. Something that not even the coldest leafbare winds, the fiercest enemies, the most hopeless scenerios will ever take away from us."

Every cat was watching, enthralled by his words. "Faith." Flameclaw finished, his amber eyes gleaming. Just the mention of faith detached Mistface from the speech, her insides growing cold. "We have faith. Our warrior ancestors will stand by us as long as the sun rises as falls, as long as water runs in streams, as long as rain falls from the sky. I have faith." Flameclaw waved his tail at Sagewhisker. "I have faith that Sagewhisker will protect us from any cough or cold thrown at us." He said confidently. "I have faith in every one of our warriors, who fight for us with sharpened claws and undistinguished bravery. And I have faith in the stars, and in all of us. ShadowClan will thrive!"

Cats exchanged hopeful glances with one another. Flameclaw was always a good speech teller, and this time, the words hit home. A pretty black she-cat was staring at Flameclaw with such admiration. Mistface looked up at the pale sky; the stars were just barely visible in the dawn light, and she could feel them watching her. Judging her... _I do believe cats dwell within the ranks of the stars._ The elder thought, a shiver running through her tabby pelt. _But that doesn't mean I will be among them._

It was the elders' job to bury the dead, but Brindlestar stepped up beside them. "I am no elder yet," The Clan Leader mewed. "But I would like to join you in burying Larchtail. He deserves a place of honor for his long time service."

Rosewood fell in beside Mistface as Squirrelfur carried Larchtail's limp, lifeless body out of the camp. "Flameclaw is right," Mistface whispers to Rosewood. "There is no need to fear. The adder is dead, but ShadowClan will live."

Rosewood's face was strained, but her eyes looked haunted, as if she could see something that no one else could. "How can a Clan live," Her voice was rough, like stone scraping against stone. "When the corruption lurks on the inside?"


	2. Allegiances

**ALLEGIANCES**

* * *

**ShadowClan**

**LEADER:**** Brindlestar**-skinny, slim, long-bodied, tortoiseshell she-cat with patchy fur, a bitten ear, yellow eyes, and a long scar across her flank

**DEPUTY:**** Stonetooth**-large, hefty, gray tabby tom with long teeth that curve out from under his lip, and yellow eyes

**MEDICINE CAT:**** Sagewhisker**-fluffy, thick-pelted, white she-cat with a broad, flattened face, long whiskers, clear blue eyes, and a fluffy tail

**WARRIORS:**** Talonwind**-hard-muscled brown tabby tom with yellow eyes, a long scar across his belly, and a graying muzzle  
Apprentice, **Hollypaw**

**Marshclaw**-huge, broad-shouldered black tom with scars criss-crossing his pelt, patchy fur, amber eyes, and a bushy tail

**Rockfang**-skinny, long-bodied, dark brown tom with a narrow muzzle, yellow eyes, and a torn ear  
Apprentice, **Lizardpaw**

**Nettlespots**-slim, lithe, mottled ginger tabby she-cat with pale green eyes and the tip of her tail missing

**Amberleaf**-lean, hard-muscled, mottled she-cat with a varied pelt of ginger and gold, with sharp claws, amber eyes, and a torn ear

**Toadskip**-slender, well-muscled, dark brown tabby tom with splashes of white along his pelt and white legs, with green eyes  
Apprentice, **Cloudpaw**

**Poolcloud**-small, fluffy, gray and white she-cat with thick fur and blue eyes

**Wildstorm**-thick-pelted, dark brown tabby tom with a scar across his chest and bright green eyes

**Crowtail**-slender black tabby she-cat with a short, glossy pelt and green eyes  
Apprentice, **Archpaw**

**Deerleap**-lean, hard-muscled, dusky gray tabby she-cat with white legs, dark green eyes, and a torn ear

**Seedfur**-skinny black tom with thin fur, pale amber eyes, and one deaf ear

**Smallfeather**-very small dusky brown tabby tom with a white chest, white on the very tips of his paws, and pale blue eyes  
Apprentice, **Brackenpaw**

**Frogtail**-sturdy, thick-furred, dark gray tom with a thick, ruffled pelt, green eyes, and a bushy tail

**Ravenflight**-small black she-cat with thick, dense fur and amber eyes

**Mottlenose**-fluffy, stocky, black and white tom with a broad, flattened face, thick long fur, orange eyes, and a fluffy tail

**APPRENTICES:**** Brackenpaw**-lean, hard-muscled, pale ginger tom with dark ginger legs, green eyes, and short fur

**Hollypaw**-lean, well-muscled, dappled, dark gray and white she-cat with thick fur and round green eyes

**Archpaw**-skinny gray tabby tom with a distinctive stripe over one of his eyes, a short pelt, yellow eyes, and a nicked ear

**Cloudpaw**-sturdy, thick-pelted, white tom with broad shoulders and yellow eyes

**Lizardpaw**-skinny, pale brown tabby and white she-cat with a white underbelly and yellow eyes

**QUEENS:**** Dovefur**-fluffy, pale silver and cream she-cat with a broad, flattened face, thick long fur, orange eyes, and a fluffy tail, mother of **Rockfang's** kit, **Yellowkit**

**Startail**-slim, sleek, black she-cat with soft fur and blue eyes, expecting **Flameclaw's** kits

**KITS:**** Yellowkit**-fluffy, dark gray she-cat with a broad, flattened face, thick long fur, bright orange eyes, and a fluffy tail

**ELDERS:**** Squirrelfur**-thin, scrawny, dark ginger tom with thick, shaggy fur and yellow eyes

**Rosewood**-pale calico she-cat with amber eyes and a smudge of white on her nose

**Mistface**-small, pale gray tabby she-cat with a battered pelt, two torn ears, broad shoulders, and amber eyes

* * *

**ThunderClan**

**LEADER:**** Pinestar**-massive, dark reddish brown tom with green eyes, broad shoulders, a muzzle crisscrossed with scars, and a torn ear

**DEPUTY:**** Larksong**-small calico she-cat with a sturdy, compact body and green eyes

**MEDICINE CAT:**** Shademist**-small, fluffy black she-cat with two white paws and bright blue eyes  
Apprentice, **Goosepaw**

**WARRIORS:**** Weedwhisker**-thin, long-bodied, ginger tom with white flecks and yellow eyes

**Stonepelt**-large, broad-shouldered gray tom with sturdy muscles and yellow eyes  
Apprentice, **Moonpaw**

* * *

**WindClan**

**LEADER:**** Vulturestar**-elderly tabby and white tom with a gray muzzle and yellow eyes

**DEPUTY:**** Heatherbreeze**-small, pale, pinkish gray she-cat with lean limbs and blue eyes

**MEDICINE CAT:**** Grassnose**-small black and white tom with yellow eyes

* * *

**RiverClan**

**LEADER:**** Hailstar**-large, sturdy, broad-shouldered, long-haired gray tom with yellow eyes and thick fur

**DEPUTY:**** Sleetfur**-large, thick-furred black tom with bright blue eyes  
Apprentice, **Shellpaw**

**MEDICINE CAT:**** Mallowfur**-small gray tabby and white she-cat with pale amber eyes


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 1**_

* * *

_The nursery was empty and its_ thorns just barely trembled as a cold leaf-fall breeze ruffled the den. Yellowkit shivered. Ever since Lizardpaw and Cloudpaw leaped into the Apprentices' Den a few sunrises ago, _and leaped out of her fur_, the nursery was all hers. Cloudkit was actually a pretty nice kit, but his sister was a wild, bossy thing, prone to stepping on Yellowkit's tail and causing trouble wherever she went. Still, the air was getting colder, and Yellowkit wished her mother was there with her to share the comfort of her thick, soft fur.

She liked being the only kit. It wasn't the attention she liked, it was the quiet she desired. The Apprentices' Den was always such a loud, noisy place, though Yellowkit had only seen it once. Lizardpaw already went ahead and placed a nest right in the dead center of the den, but soon the two littermates would be the only apprentices, as Brackenpaw, Archpaw, and Hollypaw's warrior ceremony was coming up soon. Deep down, Yellowkit didn't mind at all that she would be sharing a den with Lizardpaw again. She would be training to be a warrior, and that's all that mattered to her. She could put up with Lizardpaw's groaning, even if it was with gritted teeth and barely sheathed claws. Cloudpaw's voice of reason would be heavily sought out.

She scuttled her paws over the floor of the den, her fur prickling with impatience. The pine nettles were soft underpaw despite their sharp appearance, though they did little to provide warmth. Dovefur's soft downy pelt was good for that. Soon, they would kick her out of the nursery too, once Startail's kits arrived. Startail had begun to kit while Sagewhisker was checking her over in the Medicine Cat den, and soon Yellowkit's brief role as the sole kitten would be over.

Startail was a sweet, delicate she-cat who had been expecting her first litter. Yellowkit liked her well enough; her fur was warm in the breezy leaf-fall air, and she always spoke in a soft, wary voice. Rockfang, Yellowkit's father, visited the nursery every now and then to give his kit a vole or a lizard, but Startail's mate was never around anymore. That was a dark, cold day, filled with sadness and stark disbelief. It was a significant tragedy among ShadowClan; Yellowkit remembered being ushered into the nursery when they brought in the body, Startail's brokenhearted scream, and Dovefur's simple whisper, "Oh StarClan, how could this have happened?"

She was old enough to understand what had happened, despite being little more than two moons of age. The name _Flameclaw_ was whispered around quite frequently, his embrace hanging in the air like a moist, dense fog of grief. The vigil was held and no one spoke; what could anyone say? How could one of ShadowClan's finest warriors get struck down by unknown claws, in his own territory without a trace of Clan scent?

His kits will brave warriors too, Yellowkit remembered Marshclaw say to Amberleaf. ShadowClan needed young, strong blood, and Flameclaw's spirit would shine through his kin. Yellowkit wondered when the kits would come. Sagewhisker, her sister from an older litter, promised that she would be able to see them. They would be her denmates for the next four moons, after all, and beyond kithood as well.

Yellowkit peeked her head out of the nursery entrance, tendrils brushing the tips of her ears and a breeze tinged with icy air whisking across her muzzle. The Clan was moving with more tension in their paws, but life was going on as normal despite the birth of kits so close nearby. Ravenflight and Nettlespots were sharing a sopping wet thrush beside the warrior den. Brackenpaw and Hollypaw were play fighting with sheathed paws, though they practically looked like full grown warriors compared to the younger apprentices. Poolcloud, who had only moved to the nursery a half moon ago, stayed near the Medicine Cat Den in case the new queen needed any help. But it was dusk, and most of the warriors were out in the dark chasing prey. ShadowClan were night hunters, and the evenings were always so peaceful and calm.

Except tonight, of course. Yellowkit kneads the damp, marshy ground, wondering what could possibly be happening within Sagewhisker's den. Startail always expressed a desire for at least one of the kits to have orange fur, like their father. Would any of them resemble him? And how many kits would there be, anyway? Two, three, four? Five? Maybe only one? Would Yellowkit be able to mentor one of them when they were ready to be apprentices? No, that's silly, she was only two moons older than them. Sagewhisker was nice enough; would she let Yellowkit peek at the kits first?

Mottlenose, her older brother, stumbled out of the Warriors' den, his long black and white pelt flattened to one side from sleep. He and his father Rockfang bore no resemblance in the least bit, but all of Dovefur's kits looked like her. Yellowkit included, and she held this fact with pride. Dovefur was a senior warrior, and eventually she could be joining the elders' den sooner than later. Dovefur's earlier litter consisted of Sagewhisker and Mottlenose, who also bore the traditional snub nose look. Since Sagewhisker could not bear kits, it was half of Yellowkit's responsibility to make sure the snub nose line did not die out.

"We are rare, you and I." Dovefur had once purred to Yellowkit, who laid against her mother's warm, downy pelt with a belly full of milk. "All your kits will be rare too. Such beautiful faces, I can already picture them." Those were the happiest times, laying beside Dovefur in a milk coma; complete, undistinguished peace, even when the Clan seemed to be in chaos around her.

Mottlenose yawned, his tufted jaw stretching wide and his pink tongue exposed. He was a sweet cat, gentle and good-humored, while Rockfang typically kept his emotions inside and guarded with internal claws. Beside him, Seedfur brushed past him, walking in that usual gait that always confused Yellowkit. He always walked with one ear turned towards the ground in a very strange manner.

"Anxious?" Yellowkit heard a rusty purr behind her. Turning around, Yellowkit sees that the elder Mistface had padded up behind her. Mistface was once a renowned warrior, and her pelt was crisscrossed with scars. Despite this, her temperment was sweet and she had a fondness for kits, though Yellowkit didn't know if she ever had any herself.

"A little," Yellowkit admitted, churning her paws over the soft cool mud once again. "I just want to see them, but they aren't letting me!"

Mistface thrilled, "You'll see them sure enough, sweetling. Though I'm sure you're ready to tear your fur out with boredom."

Yellowkit nodded eagerly. Her mother Dovefur was helping Sagewhisker with the kitting, and Cloudpaw, who would usually donate some time to show her a new hunting technique, was on the dusk patrol with his mentor, Toadskip. Yellowkit looked up at the elder with round orange eyes. "Would you tell me a story?"

Mistface brushed the tip of her ragged tail over Yellowkit's head. "I suppose I wouldn't mind." Her amber eyes sparkled. "And I'm sure the others wouldn't mind if I kept you busy. Let's go to the Elders' Den, first."

Yellowkit tottered after the pale tabby as they headed to the den. Yellowkit liked the Elders' Den, though she was not always particularly welcome, as Squirrelfur spent almost all of his time snoring away. And Mistface always had a good story to tell.

The Elders' Den was a fallen log, the walls soft and perfect for scratching, and the flooring filled with pine nettles and dry moss. Yellowkit settled against Mistface's soft patchy fur. "It is so cold out there!" She squeaked.

Mistface purred, one of her torn ears flicking. "Leafbare hasn't even come, little one. Soon, the entire forest will turn white."

"But how can ShadowClan hunt?" Yellowkit asked plaintively. Her fluffy tail brushed the flaky moss on the log floor. "So many of us have black fur."

"We're night hunters," Mistface said, with an edge of wistful pride in her voice. "And ShadowClan can adapt to anything. There's a reason the other Clans go in fear of us."

Yellowkit puffed out her chest. "ShadowClan fears nothing."

Mischief crept into Mistface's amber eyes. "Well," She mewed. "There is one place where even the bravest heart's grow weary."

Yellowkit's eyes grew round. Mistface always told the best, most interesting stories. Pressing closer against the elder's fur, the young kit listened intently.

"Once, there was a young apprentice, full of potiental and eagerness. There is something to be said about apprentices; they always find a way to wake up bright eyed and bushy tailed, waiting for the day ahead. Well, a certain apprentice found herself in a strange land when she would close her eyes."

"A strange land?" Yellowkit echoed.

Mistface hesitated silently, her eyes fluttering closed and back open again. "It was...a forest, a strange forest. At first, it felt like home...but only for a moment. The trees were dark but the fungus on them glowed, and yet wherever the young cat looked, there were no stars, no moon. And the ferns always rustled, yet there was no smell of prey, only dead earth and mushrooms."

A delighted squeal came from the faded clearing outside. Yellowkit, enthralled by Mistface's words, just barely heard the noise. Mistface slowly rose to her paws, a silent wince growing across her face. The two of them padded outside, their gray pelts mingling together.

"The kits are so beautiful!" Hollypaw could not keep her own paws still. She treaded, half trembling, across the clearing. "Do you think we'll get to mentor them?" She half squeaked to her brother Archpaw. "I want to mentor the little one. He's so precious!"

Mistface's expression was strained. "Don't you want to see the kits?" Yellowkit asked her.

"I do," The old she-cat murmured. "Though, their father should see them too." She waved her tail slightly. "Come, you can see them with me."

Trying to contain herself, Yellowkit followed Mistface to the Medicine Cat Den. By then, twilight had come, the moon casting a slight silver glow across the clearing. The kit shivered as she pictured the forest Mistface described. A dark place where no stars shone. From the outside of the den, Yellowkit heard her older sister talking to the young queen.

"The kits are doing great." The pale medicine cat said. "A tom and a she-cat, isn't that wonderful, Startail?"

"Are you sure he's okay?" Startail's voice was wavering. "He's just so small."

"He is the runt of the litter," Sagewhisker meowed. Yellowkit crept closer and closer to the nursery. "As long as he's fed all the same, he'll be fine. He'll just be a smaller cat when he's all grown up."

Yellowkit poked her head into the nursery first, with Mistface behind, attempting to see in the dim light. The Medicine Den was filled with strange odors, sharp pungent leaves and freshly crushed grass. Startail was a shadow in the darkness, but Yellowkit is able to see the kits curled up against her sleek black belly. Though, none of them had thick orange fur like she had hoped. One of them was a minature copy of her mother, while the other was a very tiny little dark tabby with just a hint of red running through his pelt.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Startail whispered, but somehow, it didn't sound as if she was talking to Yellowkit. Mistface pressed her muzzle against the top of Startail's head.

"Have you thought of any names yet?" Yellowkit blurted out. She couldn't help it; her mind was spinning to know what her new denmates would be called. Would Startail name them after the color of their pelts, or would she give them meaning? Yellowkit herself was named after the great ShadowClan leader Yellowstar, though Yellowkit didn't really know too much about the previous leader. Would one of the kits be called Brindlekit?

"Come now," Mistface drew her warm, scarred tail across Yellowkit's fluffy chest. "Startail needs to rest. Why don't we go to the Elders' Den? You could lay down for a bit."

"But I'm not tired." Yellowkit tried to protest.

Mistface rasped her tongue over her head. "Maybe I'll even finish that story for you."

"It has an end?"

Mistface's ears drooped slightly. "I believe it does. Somewhere, I think."

Yellowkit scampered after the elder, her thick fur fluffing up against the cold. The night was dark and full of fears, though she wasn't afraid. ShadowClan feared nothing. Only Yellowkit couldn't help but shiver at the thought of the forest Mistface speaked of, but it was only a story, a story meant for kits to behave.


	4. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

* * *

_"ShadowClan, attack!"_

Yellowkit spun around, her hind claws gliding against the icy mud. When they woke up this morning, the three kits found a sheen coat of frost over the marshy ground and the leafy ferns. The camp was surprisingly beautiful with the snow, but most of the warriors were complaining of the stiff joints and food shortages to come. It was only a light dust of ice, but soon the entire forest would be a field of white.

And that's when Yellowkit would be exploring the ends of the marshlands and the pine trees. Her entire pelt trembled just thinking about it. _Soon, I'll be an apprentice,_ She thought with enthusiasm running throughout her body. _Only one more moon to go._

The nursery had grown quite crowded as the den swelled with kits. Startail's two were already growing strong. Eventually the young queen named the she-kit Moonkit for her smooth black pelt, but it was harder to find a name the little tom. At first, Startail wanted to name him either Littlekit or Smallkit, but eventually they settled on Mousekit for his tiny demeanor in a way that didn't seem so blatantly obvious.

Only, Mousekit didn't remain small for long. Within his first moon he nearly tripled in size, and soon, he became the biggest kit in the nursery. Even bigger than Yellowkit, but that didn't matter to her because she was older. She would still be apprenticed first because of this; Smallfeather told her so. She could also still beat him in a playfight most of the time, though he was still a large kit, and getting bigger. The dark tabby always carried himself as if all of ShadowClan were throwing themselves at his paws, and that couldn't be more irritating.

Poolcloud's litter joined their den as well. It wasn't her first litter, so she was much more experienced at the whole mother thing. Her three kits were still tiny with thick, kit-soft fur, and not yet weaned from Poolcloud's side. Though the three older kits loved having them join their games, mainly because they were so easy to boss around.

Mousekit's strong, curved hind legs sprung as he barreled into Moonkit's side. "WindClan foxhearts!" The kit squealed, batting at his sister with wide, soft paws. "I'll tear your whiskers out!"

Moonkit rolled out from beneath her brother, her sleek pelt glinting in the rising dawn light. "Yellowstar!" The black she-kit called out, her voice ending in a high squeak. "Help me defeat him!"

Mousekit suddenly fell limp, as if Moonkit's words had a physical effect on him. "That's not fair!" The tabby complained, his voice high and piercing. "I get to be leader this time."

Yellowkit reached forward and cuffed her denmate with a sheathed paw. "You _always _get to be leader. Let one of us have a turn for once!"

"As if Brindlestar would ever make you deputy." Mousekit sniffed. He walked delicately, placing his paws across the dying stalks of pale grass just barely growing out of the slick, damp earth. "My father was going to be deputy once Stonetooth retired, you know. That's what everybody says."

Yellowkit rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. That's what everybody says. But you never even met your father!"

"I don't have to have met him to know that he was the bravest, fiercest warrior who ever lived in the forest." The dark brown tabby lifted his chin, as if he could already see himself on top of the boulder. "And I am going to follow in his pawsteps!"

_Fat chance, _the older kit thought privately. Behind them, Poolcloud's litter tottered over on unsteady paws. Foxkit and Wolfkit were the biggest of the three, though Yellowkit figured it might be due to their thick, long fur. Mudkit, the smallest kit who bore a soft, dappled brown pelt, followed his sister and brother closely.

"Are you playing Clan Leader again?" Foxkit chirped, adventure or something of that sort gleaming in her bright green eyes. "Can I play?"

"Me too!" Wolfkit insisted, his gray tabby pelt bristling. "Can I choose my own name this time?" Mudkit stayed close, his ears prickling, watching with round yellow eyes.

Mousekit lowered himself to the ground, leaving shallow pawprints in the soft mud. "ShadowClan, all ears to me!" The other kits gather closer, eyes gleaming. "We are the warriors of the night, the cats of destiny! And I, Mousestar, say you can all be warriors!"

The sopping ferns dripping with wet ice opened as the young warrior Brackenfoot emerged, a frog dangling from his jaws as cats returned from night hunting. He snickered through his mouthful of prey. "If only it were that easy." He purred.

Mousekit ignored the newly named cat; it was hard to deter Mousekit when he was determined about something, that was for sure. "Moonkit!" The tabby kit addressed his sister. "You will be my deputy, Moonclaw!"

Moonkit stood straighter and flexed her tiny, thorn-sharp claws. "Those other cats will watch out." She vowed.

"Ooh, ooh!" Foxkit couldn't sit still, despite trying to keep her composture around the so-called Clan Leader. "I want to be Foxclaw!"

"There can't be two 'claws!" Wolfkit squeaked, batting at his littermate.

Mudkit merely kneaded the soft earth with gentle paws. "I don't care what I'm called." The young kit mewed. "It's not like Brindlestar lets us choose, anyhow."

Mousekit turned and focused on Yellowkit, who was doing her very best to ignore him. "And your name will be..."

"Yellowstar." Yellowkit's whiskers twitched, knowing Mousekit would break out into a fit in three, two...

"No! But I'm Mousestar this time!" For "ShadowClan's best warrior", Mousekit sure knew how to whine to get his way. "There can't be two Clan Leaders!"

"Mousestar is a stupid name, anyway!" Yellowkit darted a paw and swiped it across his muzzle so only his whiskers rattled. But now he simply backed up, his yellow eyes gleaming with anger. With hunched shoulders he slunk away from her.

"_Mouse_kit is a stupid name." The tabby kit agreed furiously. "So is _Mouse_paw. Or _Mouse_star. Or _Mouse_claw, _Mouse_fire, _Mouse_whatever!"

"Come on," Moonkit urged. "_Mouse _isn't a bad name."

"Yes it is!" Mousekit insisted. "What cat is going to go running when a mouse comes near? Why did my mother name me that? Did she really hate me that much?"

"She named you that because you were small!" Yellowkit protested. Now she couldn't help but feeling a tinge of guilt. Even if Mousekit was a pretentious bossypaws, it would be terrible to hate your own name. "Startail never thought you were weak. And besides, you grew up to be so big, so why are you complaining?"

"Maybe Smallfeather could be your mentor!" Moonkit suggested. "After all, he got past his name, and he's a really good warrior!"

"I don't want Smallfeather as my mentor!" Mousekit practically shouted. The three younger kits backed up, their round eyes growing wider and wider. "I just want to change my name! Do you think Brindlestar might call me something else while I'm an apprentice? If I act really good?"

"Like what? Bigpaw? Largepaw?" Yellowkit couldn't hold back a purr.

Mousekit casted a vicious glare at his denmate. "Big words for a little kit," He sneered. "I'm bigger than you, remember. If you were a ThunderClan cat, I'd tear you to shreds."

"I'll tear you to shreds now, _Mouse_." Yellowkit gathered her hunches and leaped upon Mousekit, doing her very best not to unsheathe her claws and rip her claws over his muzzle. They practically rolled on top of Mudkit, who barely managed to thump away with a squeak.

"Oh, that's enough, you two." Dovefur hurried over and separated the two kits with a single paw. Yellowkit obeyed her mother, though not so secretly she simply wanted to rip Mousekit's pelt right off his back. _He's going to feel so stupid when he's still a kit and _I'm _hunting with my mentor._ "You two are denmates, not enemies." Dovefur went on to say. "And it's not just for kithood, either. We're all ShadowClan cats, after all."

The two kits exchanged icy glares. _Stupid foxface,_ Yellowkit muttered privately to herself. But her mother was right. She would have to put up with Mousekit's antics until they were both safe in StarClan. He'd probably find a way to annoy her there, too.

After Dovefur padded away to share a piece of fresh-kill with Amberleaf, Yellowkit caught a glimspe of Lizardpaw stalking out of her den, grumbling. "Move over, kits." The pale tabby apprentice hissed half-heartedly, swatting away a path through the kittens. Lizardpaw hated kits but she always seemed to be hanging around them since they were the only ones who seemed to listen all the time. "Cloudpaw won't stop snoring, and I need my rest tonight!"

"Why?" Moonkit tipped her head to one side. "The gathering was last night. What could be going on tonight?"

Lizardpaw's whiskers twitched, and there was a certain gleam in her bright yellow eyes. "I'm going on a secret mission tonight."

Wolfkit's eyes were wide, round moons. "A mission?"

Lizardpaw thought better of this and meowed, "Wait, bad idea. Wolfkit, Foxkit, Mudkit, go to the nursery. The big kits and I need to talk."

Wolfkit and Foxkit scurried off, lest they deal with Lizardpaw's scorn, but Mudkit remained for a heartbeat. "Can I please listen?" The kit begged. "I promise I won't tell."

Lizardpaw growled and darted forward, nipping at Mudkit's hind legs. Squealing, the young kit thumped after his littermates, the thorn entrance vibrating after he leaped into the nursery. "Careful with that," Yellowkit warned. "Poolcloud's very defensive over her kits."

"Whatever. Now come here. I need your help." Lizardpaw slunked away with the younger kits in tow. Yellowkit exchanged a curious look with Moonkit, but Mousekit was still ignoring her, his eyes set on Lizardpaw. The young cats hide in the concealed ferns behind the nursery, though the soaking earth left Yellowkit chilled and her fur sopping. Moonkit pressed into her side, trying to find warmth in Yellowkit's thick gray fur.

"What's going on tonight?" Yellowkit asked eagerly.

Lizardpaw leaned in to the kits' faces, her voice dropping to a whisper. Her whiskers tickled the tips of Yellowkit's ears. "I met a WindClan apprentice at the gathering last night," The apprentice scoffed quietly. "He was only six moons old. The kit-warrior was a total frog-brain. He said he always wanted to explore the entire forest, just to see how far it goes." The older apprentice leaned back, her eyes glinting with a strange kind of amusement. "So, I invited him to meet me tonight at the carrionplace at midnight."

"What?" Mousekit and Moonkit said at nearly the same exact heartbeat. "Why would you do that?"

"Frog-brains!" Lizardpaw practically hissed. "This is our chance! When I meet him there, I'll tear his fur off. That's what WindClan gets for trespassing. There hasn't been a battle in ages, and I'm so ready to stretch my claws."

"Isn't that kind of sneaky?" Moonkit says with slight hesitation. "I mean, he only wants to see the territory. He's not a threat."

"Anyone who trespasses is a threat! Come on, guys. If I drive out some WindClan kit, Brindlestar might make me a warrior!"

"You still have two more moons of training to go," Yellowkit reminded her.

"Well, this is my chance to prove myself! And you guys can help me out," Lizardpaw added. "Cloudpaw would report me to Stonetooth if he found out, and Hollyflower would blurt it out to some cat before dusk. So, that's why you guys can come with me."

"Come with you?" Mousekit said, his voice tremoring with excitement. "You mean, on a real warriors' mission?"

Lizardpaw rested the tip of her tail on Mousekit's wide shoulders. "Yes, a warrior. I bet Brindlestar will make all three of you apprentices by dawn tomorrow!"

Mousekit turned to Moonkit and Yellowkit, his tail practically vibrating. "Do you think Brindlestar will let me change my name if I go?"

"I don't think this is a good idea," Moonkit's amber eyes looked unnerved. "We haven't had any warrior training yet."

"It's the four of us against some WindClan rabbit. Just showing our claws will send him running to the hills." Lizardpaw insisted.

"We might as well go along," Yellowkit reasoned with Moonkit. "After all, it's important to show the other Clans that ShadowClan is keeping their claws sharp. If we went to an actual battle, who would protect Foxkit, Wolfkit, and Mudkit?" Deep down, Yellowkit should have known she was making a terrible decision. But the thought of seeing the territory and doing an actual warriors' mission...

"So, it's decided then." Lizardpaw sat back, wrapping her tail over her white paws. "Get ready to move your nests to the Apprentices' Den. Cloudpaw will get lonely without me. Oh, and obviously, keep your jaws shut about this! We have the element of surprise on our paws. And don't worry about that little WindClan apprentice. We won't hurt him." Her yellow eyes glinted as if she could feel her claws raking against flesh already. "_Much._"

* * *

**(A/N: Thank you for the reviews; one of the internet's rules is "Don't read the comments. Never read the comments." Yet I can't help but get happy after I read them. All reviews are welcome, including downright flames. It puts the cyber bread on the table.)**


	5. wut

_**Chapter 3**_

* * *

The moon was hidden behind thick, dark clouds in the sky on the night Lizardpaw led her kit patrol to the Carrionplace. The world beyond the camp was a dark, silent place, where unknown terrors could very well be awaiting with every unsure pawstep. Yellowkit walked among her denmates with apprehensive steps, unable to see, straining to use her ears as her only guide. The ground was a varied, unexpecting field of dry dirt and sopping marsh. Twice she had walked into a tree, but it was better than accidentally falling into a hole filled with thick, muddy, weed-ridden water. Moonkit had already expressed fear at falling into one of these holes, and Yellowkit shared her concern. "If you fall in one, I'll pull you out." Lizardpaw had said. "No kits are drowning on my watch tonight."

Mousekit remained silent on the entire journey. Yellowkit knew his mind was not with the patrol in the marshes; she figured he was imagining himself on top of the High Boulder, addressing all of ShadowClan with his tail lashing and his head held up. _Heros get their start early,_ Yellowkit thought crossly, but he was no hero, only a big kit with a misfitting name. They say heros live after their deaths, their fire always burning internally through the Clan.

_Flameclaw was a hero,_ Yellowkit remembered the cats saying.

_But Flameclaw is dead._

"We're almost there," Lizardpaw hissed softly. "Stay quiet!" A hoo echoed in the icy air; Yellowkit remembered the stories of hawks and owls carrying off kits to their nests, and she pressed herself against Moonkit's pelt.

_How are we going to see the apprentice in the dark?_ Yellowkit thought as she walked into the unknown. ShadowClan were hunters of the dark, but Yellowkit must have not gained her night vision yet. She never had any training yet, though once in a while Cloudpaw and Brackenfoot would teach her a practice move or two. Those would be enough to teach this apprentice to stay in the windy moors.

The marshes swelled with a sweet, earthy smell, full of minerals and thickly growing plants, but there was something else in the air, something foul. Yellowkit crinkled up her nose. "What _is_ that smell?"

"It means we're getting close." Lizardpaw twitched her tail. "The Carrionplace is a filthy place, a home worthy for flies. Just try to ignore the stench. Only a WindClan fool would think it is a nice place to tour..."

The odor grew stronger and stronger, until not even Mousekit could ignore it for long. "What makes it smell so bad?" The dark reddish tabby muttered, pawing at his whiskers.

"No one knows. Twolegs dump all the nasty stuff in there, yet they rarely dwell since it's so foul. Now shut up, we're nearly there."

Soon, the soaking muddy ground turned to grit that bit at Yellowkit's paw pads. "Here it is," Lizardpaw whispered. "Lower yourselves. Don't let him see you!"

_As if anyone can see us in this night,_ Yellowkit thought sourly, looking at the dark clouds once again. But she listened and, exchanging a glance with Moonkit, lowered themselves until their soft belly fur touched the hard little stones that were littered over the earth. Their fur was spiked with excitement, and Mousekit's eyes were gleaming beside her. The smell however was practically bringing tears to her eyes, and she couldn't smell anything distinct besides that. "What does WindClan even smell like?" Moonkit muttered in Yellowkit's ear.

"Moorpaw!" Lizardpaw suddenly yowled, making the kits jump with shock. The ShadowClan apprentice pads out into the open, while Yellowkit, Moonkit, and Mousekit remained hidden among the strange, stinking rubble. "Moorpaw! I'm here, like I said I'd be! Where are you?"

There was no noise except the whistling of the wind. "Moorpaw!" Lizardpaw hissed, the impatience clear as day in her voice. "Where are you? Moorpaw! Come out already!"

The kits could do nothing but sit and wait while Lizardpaw called out repeatedly, but Yellowkit knew what the apprentice would say before she even said it. "He didn't show!" Lizardpaw snarled, her eyes flaring. "That wretched gnat. I will slice his ears off his head at the next Gathering; forget the truce, he went back on his word!"

The clouds were shifting above their heads. Yellowkit looked up and saw the nearly full moon beginning to expose itself ever so slightly. Suddenly a gasp escaped Moonkit's jaws. "What was that?"

"I didn't hear anything," Mousekit said, puzzled. With the moon beginning to cast a glow along the Carrionplace, Yellowkit was able to make out his outline in the dark.

"Over there," Moonkit whispered, hushed, her voice thick with fright. That's when Yellowkit heard it too, a slight rumble, like the sound of paws scrambling over the piles of rubble. The three kits took pawsteps backwards, their tails beginning to fluff up in fear.

Lizardpaw took a hesitant step forward. "Moorpaw?" She said, her voice wavering. "Is that you?"

More shuttering followed, only greater in volume, and closer, too close. Shadows casted over the grit, large dark shadows of unknown beings. In the black of night, Yellowkit heard a single squeak.

"A mouse?" Moonkit's voice was barely heard over the chattering of her teeth.

There was another squeak. And then another, only to be followed by another. The shadows surged forward like a wave of darkness.

_"Rats!"_ Lizardpaw screeched, her voice high with stark horror. The squeaking and squealing of the rodents filled the silent night. In the dim moonlight, Yellowkit could see one of them; it was a huge creature, with thick matted fur and glowing eyes...and those _teeth_...

Moonkit began to back up. "We have to run!" She yelped. Mousekit and Yellowkit could only follow, though Yellowkit's mind was beginning to fog up with horror until all she could see where the rodent's eyes. They scuttled with frightened, urgent paws, but they found themselves running repeatedly into walls of rubble.

"Where's the exit?" Mousekit cried out. "Lizardpaw!"

"Lizardpaw!" Yellowkit picked up the yowls. "Lizardpaw, help us!" She spotted the apprentice standing, her limbs stiff and unmoving. Her wide yellow eyes didn't even turn to see the kits; they were all for the rats, which were practically oozing forward. There were too many to count, too many to see; more had to be concealed within the piles, no doubt. Lizardpaw took one step backward, then another, before turning on her paws and running full speed out of the Carrionplace. The tip of her striped tail vanished in the night.

"Lizardpaw!" The kits screamed out, but it was a lost cause. _"Lizardpaw!"_ No response came, and soon the three kits were all alone in a field of rats, who crawled forward with teeth bared and naked tails flicking. Moonkit's entire body was quivering, quivering like a kit who was staring death in the face. Yellowkit felt Mousekit press himself against her pelt. His teeth were twisted into a snarl, but his eyes gave away the terror they all felt, as did the shivers that seemed to mingle with Yellowkit's. They came here to fight, but this is a battle they could not win.

A single rat struck out. Alone they were a good source of prey, but together they were a seething mob who seemed just about as battle-ready as any Clan. Even this lone rat was large, bigger than any mouse Yellowkit had ever seen, and no mouse ever came alive from the fresh-kill pile to rip her fur off. Yellowkit swung her claws at it when it came near, but it was clear to all the kits that they could never even think to win this. They had no battle training, no nothing of that sort. She tried to remember those little moves the young warriors had once shown her, but what good was that against these creatures? The best motive was to run, but their paws were frozen with fear, as heavy as swamp water and as still as stone.

Finally, Moonkit turned to run, with Mousekit beside her. Yellowkit lashed her claws out against the rat's face before following, but all she really did was flutter the rodent's whiskers. The sound of the rats' pawsteps behind them drove them running and running...running where? How large was the Carrionplace, anyway? The smell of foul Twoleg things and rats filled Yellowkit's nostrils; she couldn't think of any sort of strategy, the only words that blared through her head were _run, run, run._ Suddenly she felt something tear into her hunches, and suddenly her body became weighed, as if something was clinging to her. She whipped her head back and dug her teeth into the rat who bit her as hard as possible until the teeth released her flesh, but then the creature squirmed away from her jaws after that. Soon, she couldn't think of anything more except _shredding_; her claws were a whirl of fury. Sometimes she felt flesh and fur against them, other times she felt nothing but air. She was unaware of Moonkit and Mousekit's locations, all she could concentrate on were the rats snapping at her fur.

Soon, it became too hard to fight. One tore at her ear, another nipped at her hind leg. She ignored them as she pushed and pushed a rather determined one away from her neck; even the simplest of kits knew that a bite to the throat meant death. Suddenly Yellowkit heard Mousekit's panting cry of, "The hill! Climb the hill!" In the glint of the dark moonlight Yellowkit saw one of those giant heaps of Twoleg rubble, the only place that didn't seem to be crawling with rats. Yanking away from the creatures, she navigated through a sea of filthy black fur until her claws snagged into the rubble. The pieces were crushed up and the hill would surge every time she tried to pull herself higher, but the rats biting at her tail drove her higher and higher. The night air had been cold but now Yellowkit's body was overheating, as if fire dwelled in her blood. Turning her head, she saw a shadow climbing beside her, struggling with the hill just as she was.

"I can't find Mousekit!" The shadow wailed once they reached the top of the hill. Moonkit's amber eyes were wild with terror. "Mousekit! Where are you?"

Yellowkit's chest sunk to her paws when she spotted the kit. He stood alone in the field, teeth bared, claws extended. His thick fur was fluffed up but some of it was flattened on some points, and Yellowkit knew he was bleeding badly. As Mousekit pushed forward to the hill, rats would attack him on both sides. He swung claws at every single one of them, and sometimes he actually got a good slash in. The sounds of squeaking and Mousekit's defiant yowls rocked the once silent air. Finally, a wave of them surged forward, engulfing the young kit until Yellowkit could no longer see him. The infuriated hisses turned to screams and screeches, then turned to whimpers.

_"Mousekit!"_ Moonkit screeched. Yellowkit shouted something else, but no words could form until only a scream escaped her jaws.

Then suddenly, larger forms pushed through the mob. At first Yellowkit thought that they were even bigger rats would joined the party late, until she recognized the hisses and yowls of cats. Her Clanmates. She recognized Nettlespots's mottled ginger coat, as well as Talonwind's hisses of anger. She then saw her father in the mix, slashing and ripping through the rats' flesh as if they were mere prey. On the top of the hill Yellowkit could see that the group wasn't as big as she had thought, and most had turned tail and fled further into the Carrionplace. Bodies of the dead rats littered the ground, and the Clan cats urgently stepped over them in order to reach the hill.

"They're gone," Talonwind's voice was a low growl as he beckoned the kits to come down from the hill. "Come down now."

But the two she-kits were a frenzied mess, their bodies racked with consuming shivers. "Mousekit," They whimpered repeatedly. "Mousekit, Mousekit, Mousekit."

That's when Nettlespots must have spotted him. "Oh, mercy." The she-cat whispered, staring down at the crumpled body of what used to be the fiercest kit in all of the forest. Rockfang leaned down and sniffed at him, his eyes drooping momentarily. The smell of the waste and the rats all faded away until all Yellowkit could smell was blood, blood, blood. The two she-kits slid down the hill and Nettlespots gathered them with her tail so they wouldn't see.

"Wait a minute." Rockfang suddenly said, bending closer to Mousekit. "Wait a minute." He touched him just so briefly with one paw. "He's not dead."

Talonwind looked baffled. "He's not?"

A darkened cloud was threatening to cover the moon once more, but there was just enough light available to see the rapid fall-and-rise of Mousekit's chest. His eyes were closed and he was nearly completely still, but his whiskers twitched ever so slightly with every breath.

"He's not." Rockfang gently gripped the kit's scruff, who did not even react. "But if we don't hurry, that might change." Yellowkit caught a glimpse of Mousekit's torn, bloody fur before the moon was swallowed by the cloud, and they were left in the darkness once more. The heat of the battle left her body until all she could feel was the bitter chill of the cruel night air. She just barely realized Talonwind had picked her up by her neck fur, with Nettlespots carrying Moonkit who looked equally as traumatized, but Yellowkit did nothing. All she could do is stare into the darkness with her throbbing wounds as the patrol hurried back to camp.


	6. the cake is a lie

_**Chapter 4**_

* * *

_Upon returning to the ShadowClan camp, nothing_ seemed different. Despite the night sky beginning to slowly fill with dawn light, the clearing was particularly empty; yet other than that, nothing seemed too out of place. The curled thorns that were as sharp as a cat's claws were still in place, the clearing was still covering in shallow overlapping pawprints. But the world felt surreal and removed from Yellowkit's thoughts as Talonwind carried her and the other kits back from the Carrionplace.

Toadskip's jaw dropped when he saw the scene dragging into the camp. Rosewood, who was devouring a vole beside the fresh-kill pile, hurried to the Elders' Den to alert the others of what happened. The ferns beside the nursery shuttered as Poolcloud ushered her kits behind the walls so they wouldn't see. Yellowkit wouldn't be surprised if one of the cats started calling for a vigil soon.

Sagewhisker slid out of her den. She was always a distinct member of the Clan, and it wasn't always because of her status as the medicine cat; her thick, snow-white pelt is especially rare among ShadowClan, for generations of night-hunting seemed to favor more and more dark-pelted cats. Still, you didn't need to hide among sparse ferns and other things found in their barren, damp territory to find herbs. Her eyes took in the sight of Mousekit dangling so helplessly from Rockfang's jaws like a torn, bloody piece of fresh-kill.

"Rats," Talonwind mumbled through Yellowkit's fur. He set her down against the ground; the cool, earthy mud felt so soft and natural underpaw, rather than that horrible grit that ripped at her paw pads. She focused on the ground and how great it was, anything to distract herself from Mousekit's injuries which seemed to be swirling in her mind like a swarm of bees.

Ravenflight hurried over. Yellowkit heard stories about when the young warrior had broken her leg when she was an apprentice. She made a full recovery, and due to all the time spent lying around in the Medicine Cat's Den, she learned several things or two from Sagewhisker's former mentor Larchtail, who had died before Yellowkit was born. "Can I help?" The small black she-cat asked Sagewhisker.

Sagewhisker, without even blinking, addresses Ravenflight in an urgent voice with her eyes trained on Mousekit. "Get burdock root. Thyme. And poppy seeds. Treat Yellowkit and Moonkit. I'll handle Mousekit."

The sound of pawsteps belonging to one of the rescue patrols is interrupted by Startail's horrified wail when she sees her kit. The cry was so similar to the one Yellowkit remembered hearing from long ago, when she was nestled against Dovefur's side. When they found Flameclaw... The slender black queen sprinted to the other side of the clearing until she arrived at Mousekit's side.

"No... No..." She whispered, watching with grief-stricken blue eyes as Sagewhisker lifts Mousekit's scruff into her mouth. "How... How did this..."

Sagewhisker flicked her tail at Ravenflight. "_Lots_ of thyme." She beckoned Startail and then disappeared with Mousekit still in her grasp. Yellowkit wondered if that was the last time she would ever see him.

Mottlenose, who had been a part of the rescue patrol, stepped forward hesitantly. "Will Mousekit be okay?" His words were frightened and they echoed the thoughts of every cat standing there.

Yellowkit caught a glimpse of Sagewhisker turning her head to look at her littermate. "I don't know." Her eyes were dark. "But I will try my hardest to save him, I promise."

"Let me be with him," Startail repeated over and over, her voice becoming a shrill whisper.

"You can," Ravenflight assured her, darting into the den and returning a few moments later with her jaws stuffed with herbs. Startail moved with tremoring paws until her tail tip vanished in the darkness of the den. Yellowkit watched all this with wide eyes, yet everything seemed so peculiar. Everything seemed fuzzy and dripped with violet and silver; like a dream, like a nightmare. She only wanted to wake up and find out that none of this happened, that it was all a made-up night terror her mind had created. Suddenly all of her complaining about Mousekit seemed so silly. He wasn't bad, not at all. He was only playing Clan Leader; yeah, he was bossy and all, but she didn't want him to die. He was only a kit, and kits shouldn't die when they're kits. That's not right... Surely StarClan wouldn't take him? Yellowkit could do nothing but hope Sagewhisker would be able to save him, but she knew sometimes not even the most educated of healing paws could salvage the life of every cat.

She felt someone's tail nudging her to the nursery. She looked up and saw her mother Dovefur looking at her with orange eyes so alike her own. Whenever Yellowkit misbehaved, Dovefur never hesitated to be stern, but this time her face was strained with concern and pity. "Come," Her mother murmured, leading the two she-kits to the nursery. "It's over now. Come, dear. It's over."

But it wasn't over. Mousekit was clinging to life like a raindrop on a leaf. She was faintly aware of a burning sensation in the areas where the rats had ravaged deeply in her fur, but the thought of what Mousekit must be experiencing right now left her feeling raw on the inside. Moonkit's eyes were glazed in a way that convinced Yellowkit that she had no idea where she was walking or even where she was, but that was okay because Yellowkit didn't really know where reality was either.

In the nursery, Poolcloud remained at the far corner of the den, her large blue eyes taking in the sight of the kits. Wolfkit and Foxkit watched with wide eyes, while Mudkit merely buried his face in Poolcloud's thick, fluffy tail. Ravenflight's whiskers tickled the tips of Yellowkit's ears. "Hi," The young warrior mewed. "I'm just going to trickle a little bit of medicine onto your wounds. It might hurt a bit, but you'll be brave, right?"

Yellowkit nodded. No words could form on her tongue except _Mousekit_ but she kept that inside. Moonkit said nothing either; she kept her sight attached to the moss, though she was certain that her friend's mind was still with those rats at the Carrionplace. Yellowkit felt tiny drops of something fall onto her ear, the middle of her shoulder blades, the curve of her hind legs. Her flesh retaliated and a searing, burning pain followed, though Yellowkit barely registered it. Ravenflight repeats this process on Moonkit, who doesn't even flinch as the poultice dripped onto a long, jagged bite mark that twisted along her shoulder. "Now, would you be able to chew a few leaves for me?" Ravenflight mewed, nudging a few sticky, delicately shaped leaves at the kits' paws. Yellowkit is suddenly aware of the horrible taste of rotten fur in her mouth, and she licked up the leaves eagerly, crunching and crunching until her jaw felt sore.

Eventually Yellowkit and Moonkit, after swallowing two tiny black seeds that were smaller than the tips of her claws, felt sleep tugging at their pelts. But even as she drifted off Yellowkit's thoughts were racked with grief. _I am the oldest kit of the nursery. I should have told Moonkit and Mousekit to stay behind. _I _should have stayed behind. The rats did the biting and the ripping, but Mousekit's blood is on my paws..._

* * *

When she woke, the first thing Yellowkit registered was Dovefur's thick, soft, downy pelt. The feeling of fur is a familiar, nostalgic emotion, but sure enough an image of Mousekit's broken, bloodied body fills her mind. Her nerves jerk when the memories come rushing back, and before she knew it she was tottering out of the nursery on hurting paws. Her entire body was aching; the bites feel as if they were doused with fire, and her sides and legs were bruised and pulsing. It didn't hurt that bad before, but now she could feel every bite, every slash, every mark.

The bitter chill of the air would have relieved some of the pain within the bites, though the day felt warmer than moons of late. The ground underpaw felt moist and soaking, the mud oozing between her toes. She spotted a half frozen puddle near the center of the clearing, a few pawsteps away from the fresh-kill pile, the sparse patches of ice glistening from the rising sun. Yellowkit suddenly felt drawn to the water, as if it would contain answers to the questions that have been burning in her mind. Trodding lightly, Yellowkit ignored the eyes on her and peered into the puddle without hesitation.

The first word that came to Yellowkit's mind was _warrior._ The kit staring back at her with wide orange eyes didn't look like she resided in the nursery and had a life that revolved around playing and frolic. Her one ear was ravaged, the tear deeper than she had thought. Stretching, she could see clear scars scattered over her hind legs, though she wasn't able to catch a glimpse of the bite that was carved in the center of her shoulder blades. She was no simple kit who ran to her mother's side; she fought, and now she had the marks to prove it.

_But I didn't fight, _she told herself bitterly. _I ran. Mousekit fought, but look how well he's doing now!_

That thought made her afraid. Where was Mousekit? Did he die in the night like they all feared she would? Did they already hold the vigil while she slept? Suddenly she felt woozy, and she was half convinced she would retch right in front of the fresh-kill pile. They would have to tell her if Mousekit was dead, right? They wouldn't keep that secret from her. Right?

_I have to see Mousekit. _Rising to her paws and biting back a wince, she hurried to the Medicine Cat Den as fast as she could on her bruised, swollen paws. Before she could make it to the den, Dovefur stepped her path. "I woke," Her mother said, drawing her thick silver-and-cream tail over Yellowkit. "But it's clear you're ahead of me."

She's still being sweet, Yellowkit realized. That's when she knew things were wrong. "Mousekit," Yellowkit looked up at the senior queen. "Where is he? Is he alright?"

Dovefur clearly hesitated, and that only made Yellowkit panic. "Mousekit," The dark gray she-kit insisted. "Please, just take me to see him."

Yellowkit spotted Moonkit poking her head out of the nursery, her little face crumbling with every step. "Mousekit," The younger kit whimpered. "Where's my brother? Where is he?"

Dovefur sighed, then she gave both the kits that usual stern look she always bore. "You can see him." She mewed. "But he's very weak. You have to be very, very careful. And it's just a peek, okay?"

The two she-kits nodded eagerly, grinding their teeth when their sore muscles strained. "We will." They promised.

Dovefur trotted across the swampy clearing, the two kits in tow. Yellowkit exchanged a look with Moonkit and found the same horror swimming within her eyes. What would they see, behind the sweeping ferns and tangled vines that overlapped Sagewhisker's den? Yellowkit didn't get a perfect look at Mousekit; how severe were his injuries, truly? Did the rats gnaw off his own tail? The thought sends shudders throughout her; no cat deserves that, let alone a little kit who thought he had to prove himself.

The smell of dried herbs welcome the queen and the two kits as they slip inside the medicine cat den. Yellowkit caught sight of her older sister, hunched over Mousekit with concern and determination painted over her broad, flattened face. Startail was all but curled around her son, but her eyes were closed and her breathing was deep, and Yellowkit could only wonder how long she stayed awake while Mousekit's condition was most critical. The young medicine cat waved her tail at the visitors. "Come to see your friend?" Sagewhisker asks, her voice still strained and weary, making Yellowkit wonder if she's slept at all either.

"Is he okay?" Moonkit blurted out immediately.

Sagewhisker curled her silky, fluffy tail over her paws and looked at the kit. "I think he will be okay," The medicine cat mewed. "And he's lucky that we had so much herbs available; burdock root especially. It might be a while before he's romping on his paws again, but I think it'll all heal." Then she paused and said, "Well, except his pelt." Yellowkit took a cautious step forward and peered closely at the injured kit.

Mousekit lay in a bed of fluffy yellow petals and dried leaf-fall leaves and thick dark roots. Almost all of his fur was concealed within the herbs but Yellowkit catches a glimpse of his pelt. It was ripped to ribbons and patches of bare skin were showing, as if the rats yanked the fur right from it. His screams of agony that night echoed in Yellowkit's head and it's more than an effort not to press her paws to her ears to block them out. She suddenly remembered that one day as they played Clan Leader; when Mousekit was being the bossypaws he always was, she had wished she could rip his pelt off. She felt her flesh crawl with ice. _Kits aren't supposed to have scars,_ she told herself, but after looking at Mousekit's ragged, patchy pelt, Moonkit's scars and her own ravaged reflection, she began to learn that rarely anything followed a pattern.

"So he'll live?" Yellowkit mewed, looking to the medicine cat for confirmation.

"He'll live." Sagewhisker said, her voice teeming with the sound of a promise. Yellowkit bowed her head, silently thanking StarClan and her sister's healing paws. As obnoxious and cocky the kit may be, Mousekit deserved to become a warrior, just as he always desired to. Maybe someday, when she was Clan Leader or deputy or at least a very respected warrior, she and Mousekit and Moonkit could lead a battle to the Carrionplace once again, and rip apart the rats who dared attack them when they were at their weakest. By then, she'll be big enough to swipe away the creatures as if they were harmless mice, just as the warriors who came to rescue them seemed to do. She remembered herself as a younger kit, huddled against Dovefur's warm fur as Mistface's horror stories about a dark, starless forest lingered in her mind. She was such a fool for finding them scary. The real dangers lurked in the swamps, threatening to destroy ShadowClan; nearly shredding kits to pieces and picking off well respected warriors like Flameclaw in the dark. Those are where true terrors lie, and someday, when Yellowkit was a warrior, she'd be able to chase them off her territory for ever messing with the Clan she loved so much in the first place.

* * *

** (A/N: Sorry nothing really interesting happened in this chapter. There will be one more relatively short one while Yellowfang is still a kit, and then after that we'll get into the apprentice moons. Hopefully. Please R&R like the cool peeps you are, because it's really appreciated. After this fanfiction is over there will be cake. The cake's not a lie. I promise.)**


	7. are you afraid of god, booker?

_**Chapter 5**_

* * *

_The days passed by Yellowkit one by_ one like falling leaves. Kit life seemed dreary and pointless ever since the battle of the rats, in more ways than one. Mousekit spent nearly all of his time healing up in the medicine cat den, though he was noticeably regaining his strength and his personality. While Foxkit, Wolfkit, and Mudkit were quite content playing Chase The Frog and Clan Leader and Leap Toad, Yellowkit and Moonkit found themselves lying around the clearing, unsure of what to do. Without Mousekit games seemed empty and lonesome despite the number of kits, and chasing after imaginary prey and fighting feigned enemies now seemed so..._mundane._ The rats she fought were real, far too real, with blood running inside their veins and teeth that could very well rip her apart. A real enemy. Kit games seemed so kit-like, and Yellowkit was done being a kit.

Only a half moon had went by since the fight, yet things seemed so different. Lizardpaw no longer even approached the nursery, so Yellowkit rarely saw a hair of her pelt anymore. _Not that this was a bad thing._ She knew it was mainly because Lizardpaw was so busy cleaning after the elders by herself as a punishment for her role in the rat battle, leaving Cloudpaw with extra battle and hunting training and time for himself, but Yellowkit also had a feeling that Lizardpaw was trying her hardest to make sure her path never crossed the kits she left to die.

But Yellowkit knew she wasn't the only one who was off the hook here. At first, her Clanmates were nice enough to her because they knew how traumatized she and Moonkit had been after the battle, and how they would both feel responsible if Mousekit had died. But now that time was passing and Mousekit was remarkably healing, things were becoming different. Yellowkit may be tired of being a kit but she knew she would have to stay in the nursery longer than most as a punishment. She could only wonder how much longer Brindlestar would have them wait for their apprentice ceremony. She hoped that with so few apprentices left, her leader would not delay them for too long.

And due to Mousekit's miraculous recovery, Yellowkit figured he would probably join them in the ceremony. Mousekit was practically himself again, much to Startail's delight and Yellowkit's private dismay. Of course, she was happy Mousekit was healed, but that didn't mean she was looking forward to Mouse_star_'s pretentiousness. Sagewhisker even found him to be a rowdy bunch; he would often chase after her tail and sometimes scamper around in her den, making a mess of the supplies. Yellowkit would have offered to help clean up if she hadn't known that Mousekit would simply make yet another blunder of the carefully wrapped herbs yet again.

Speaking of the kit, Yellowkit turned and saw Mousekit poke his head out of the medicine cat den. Even from there Yellowkit could see the gleam in his yellow eyes. The young tom trotted across the clearing, a dim ray of cold sunlight catching on his fur. Or at least, what's left of it. Some of the fur grew back, but Sagewhisker told her that most of his pelt would remain a rugged, tattered mess. Some parts grew thicker than most, and in other parts pale flesh was exposed. Yellowkit thought that some of the senior warriors had patchy pelts similar to this, but never on any of the kits or apprentices. But Mousekit didn't seem to mind. In fact, he actually favored it.

"Oh, Yellowkit!" Mousekit called out. The young tabby thumped over to her on delighted paws. Even at four moons and half of his pelt torn away, he still was the largest kit in the nursery. "Thank StarClan _you're_ awake. Let's do something!"

"We can't be too loud. Half the warriors are sleeping." Yellowkit objected. It was midday and most of the warriors who night-hunted the evening before were snoring away. And besides, she didn't want to anger any more cats; she had to be on her best behavior for a while longer.

"Come on!" Mousekit whined. "We don't have to play any of those silly kit games. Let's go explore the camp entrance or something like that!"

"Don't you remember the _last_ time we went exploring?" Yellowkit scoffed in partial disbelief. "You nearly, I mean, _really_, had your fur ripped off!"

Mousekit narrowed his eyes. "I'm not suggesting that we go to the Carrionplace hunting rats." He said cynically. "And as if you're one to talk. You may still have all of your fur but I was the one who did all the fighting. And I do seem to recall telling you guys to climb the hill. If it wasn't for me, you'd be crow-food!"

"Can't you two stop bickering for an instant?" Sagewhisker's voice crept up on them. The white she-cat gave them both a stern look. "I would have thought this experience would have bonded you three together more."

Mousekit sat up straighter. "Have you talked to Brindlestar yet?" He begged. "I'm sorry I keep asking, but I'm dying to know!"

"Dying to know what?" Yellowkit said in exasperation. "If she's going to delay the apprentice ceremony? I want to know too, but what does it matter to you? You're only four moons old. You're not going to become an apprentice yet anyway."

Mousekit waved her away with his tail. "That's not it, frog-brain." The kit derided with annoyance. "I know I won't be an apprentice yet. What I want to know is if Brindlestar will hold a renaming ceremony."

"A renaming ceremony? For who, you?" Yellowkit tipped her head to one side.

"Yes!" Mousekit nodded. "And why shouldn't I? Cats get their names changed if things happen to them all the time."

"I wouldn't say _all the time._" Sagewhisker said, her voice slightly hesitant. "But yes, it's been done. There used to be an elder here, before you two were born, who had changed his name to Deadnose when he lost his sense of smell. But not every cat does this. Seedfur didn't want to change his name when we all found out he couldn't hear out of one of his ears."

"But I want to!" Mousekit insisted. "Think about how cool it would be. Brindlestar could give me a much better name than _Mouse_kit. Something worthy of a warrior, you know? Maybe Roughkit or Shredkit or Patchkit!"

"Or Ratkit." Yellowkit quipped, her voice ending with a snicker.

Sagewhisker shook her head with good nature, then mewed to Mousekit, "If you want to change your name, I don't see why Brindlestar would advise otherwise. It might take a little bit longer to convince your mother, but eventually she'll come around to it. But are you sure it's what you want to do? Lots of cats have _Mouse_ in their names. It's not a bad name, it's actually kind of-"

"Yes!" Mousekit piped up. His shredded pelt bristled with enthusiasm. "I want to be more than just a runt who grew out of his kitten paws. Please, let me change it!"

Sagewhisker dipped her head, and turned in the direction of the Leader's den. "Very well." The medicine cat meowed, though Yellowkit caught a gleam of some faraway emotion she did not recognize dwelling in her sister's eyes. "I'll go see Brindlestar, and I will let you know what she says."

When the medicine cat padded away, Yellowkit glanced over at the young, scarred kit. "Are you _really_ sure about this?" She heard herself saying.

"You know how much I hate my name! Believe me I'm ready for a new one." Mousekit flexed his soft, kit-like claws. "Believe me, I'm sure about this."

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Startail fretted, entwining her slender body around her battered kit. When the black-pelted queen had learned that Mousekit was planning to have Brindlestar rename him for something more fitting to his battle-scarred pelt, she was not particularly pleased. She was a very warm, forgiving she-cat who didn't love her son any less despite the scars, but it was clear that she didn't prefer his name to serve as a constant reminder of them.

"Yes." The eagerness of the prospective of changing his name didn't wear off, but Mousekit was holding it in a more dignified manner. "Brindlestar won't name me something cruel. It'll be okay!"

"But I named you Mousekit." She said sadly. "It wasn't because you were a runt or anything like that. Your name could still be something brave and warrior-like when you become one."

The dark tabby pressed closer to Startail and touched his nose to her soft muzzle. "Please, mother." He mewed. "I don't see Mousekit anymore in my reflection. I need to hear who I am, hear the name of the cat I see staring back at me in puddles."

The young she-cat looked like she wanted to say more, but she simply nodded and stepped away, joining the ranks of cats who were beginning to swell the clearing for Mousekit's ceremony. Yellow eyes flash throughout the crowd as the night sky darkened and darkened, for ShadowClan had a tendency for holding its ceremonies in the blackness of night with only the stars as witness. Brindlestar leaped onto the High Boulder with strong hind legs, with Stonetooth standing close to the rock with all four paws planted firmly upon the ground. The leader and deputy of ShadowClan were littermates, and the senior warriors sometimes talked of how powerful and feared the two cats were in their youth. Yellowkit could see their fur beginning to gray, little by little, but they still seemed muscular and fierce among the Clan.

Brindlestar gazed down at the young tom with unreadable yellow eyes. Mousekit stood up and kept his head cocked high, his tail raised, his scraggy fur lying still along his pelt. Brindlestar lifted her chin and began to speak in a loud, strong voice. "Spirits of StarClan, you know every cat by name." The aged leader meowed. "I ask you now to take away the name from the cat you see before you, for it no longer stands for what he is. By my authority as Clan leader, and with the approval of our warrior ancestors, I give this cat a new name."

Yellowkit exchanged an unsure look with Moonkit. Startail sat beside her daughter and appeared to be holding her breath. The shadows of cats rippled ever so slightly as the Clan waited to hear the new name. The breeze was low but the air was bitter, biting at Yellowkit's ears and her nose. Mousekit stood, unmoved, his eyes trained on the leader, or perhaps, maybe only the boulder itself.

The intricate tortoiseshell marks on Brindlestar's dark coat fluttered as shadows dappled over it. "From this moment on, this young kit will be known as Raggedkit, for his shredded, patchy pelt. Let this new name serve as a reminder of the many perils that dwell within our forests and beyond, and the strength that all ShadowClan cats contain when the danger rises up against them."

Brindlestar did not step down to rest her head along the young tabby's shoulder as this was not a warrior ceremony; instead, she delicately stepped down from the boulder on long, battle-scarred legs, brushing her pelt against her brother's thin gray striped fur. Marshclaw began the chant, "Raggedkit!" And then the word bounced off the tongues of every ShadowClan cat as they called to welcome the newly named kit.

"Raggedkit! Raggedkit! Raggedkit!"

Startail reached her son first, drawing the tip of her long tail along his chest. "It is a nice name," She murmured, brushing her nose against one of his ears. Moonkit looked delighted, batting at her brother with soft, playful paws.

Raggedkit was practically glowing under the shine of his Clanmates' approval, kneading the ground with false modesty. "Raggedkit," The dark tabby purred, letting the name linger on his tongue as if it contained some kind of savory flavor. Yellowkit sat a few tail-lengths away, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, though the desire was awfully hard to deny. Raggedkit's ego will be high among the clouds now. He'll be insufferable now! She kept telling herself that she was thankful he was alive, but she couldn't help but wish the rats had driven out some of his arrogance.

Brindlestar remained beside Stonetooth, watching Raggedkit calmly, though Yellowkit thought she could see a storm of emotion flickering in her leader's eyes. Yellowkit remembered the stories of Flameclaw, and many of them seemed to recall the close friendship between Brindlestar and the young warrior. Did Brindlestar ever see any of Flameclaw's fire contained within his son? They say the brightest of fires burned out the quickest.

_And while the dullest of fires live the longest, they're the most miserable._


	8. squab

**_Chapter 6_**

* * *

_Hardened patches of drying mud clung to_ Yellowfang's pelt, though she was aware of nothing except the swamp around her. Everything is still, everything is calm, except for the distant yowls of "Nightkit! Nightkit! _Nightkit!_" echoing around her territory, teemed with fierce desperation and growing hopelessness. The soaking forests of ShadowClan never seemed larger as their warriors searching and seeking through every bramble, every root, every hollowed tree, looking for one tiny kit in a world of uncertainty.

ShadowClan life had been contented and serene the day Nightkit went missing. Toadskip, Frogtail, and Nettlespots had hauled in several generous catches, for greenleaf had been especially beneficent in times of late. Moonpaw and Wolfpaw were chattering beside the Apprentices' Den over a plump starling; the two friends were a constant source of gossip within the Clan when nothing else interesting was happening at the time. Yellowfang's former mentor, Deerleap, was sunbathing in the warm, sticky air, when suddenly a little head popped out of the nursery, took a long sweep around with cautious yellow eyes, then slid back with an urgent air to it.

Cinderkit was rarely seen without his brother; the two were as thick as thieves, always doing things together and always tormenting the older warriors side by side. Yellowfang had looked up from her vole in sudden interest, her ear that wasn't torn flicking up in curosity. After several long, drawn out moments, Crowtail's sleek striped body slipped out from the nursery, her son in tow.

"Nightkit?" The black tabby queen said, her ears prickled; she wasn't alarmed, not yet. "Nightkit, where'd you run off to now?" Cinderkit bumped in between her legs, his eyes trained on the muddy clearing, avoiding everything except the stare of a cat.

Nightkit wasn't in the clearing. He wasn't exploring any of the dens. He wasn't pestering any of the warriors. He wasn't even in the camp. He simply vanished from the camp, and no one has seen him a whisker of him all day. With the sun sinking in the sky and Nightkit's already faint scent fading away from any leads, hope was disintergrating like spilled rainwater under a boiling greenleaf sun.

The leader of Yellowfang's rescue patrol, Wildstorm, scrambled over a moist, mossy rock. "Anything?" The tabby warrior said, his claws impatiently tapping over the surface of the stone.

Yellowfang shook her head, her ears flattening to her head. "There's nothing," The gray warrior said bitterly. "Not even a single trace."

Frogtail, who had bounded up behind Wildstorm, hissed in frustration. "How hard can it be to track a kit in broad daylight?"

"Well, nightfall changes the game." Wildstorm kept his leaf-green eyes trained on the sky. Wildstorm was a younger, energetic warrior who rarely took much of anything seriously, but today he was all seriousness as they probed the forest looking for the missing kit. Wildstorm peered at Yellowfang, and she saw a slight trace of forced amusement written in his face. "It's too bad he's not hunting rats, he'd be easy to find."

Yellowfang acknowledged the joke with a cheeky flick of her tail, though humor felt as dry and lifeless as the sweltering air around them. The swamp around them was teeming with uncertainty, and a kit was fair game to foxes and badgers just as any fresh-kill was. Yellowfang forced these thoughts out of her head; thinking like this would only further drive pessimism into their already dampened spirits. But she could never deny that these same fears weren't running through her Clanmates' heads, especially through Nightkit's parents.

Crowtail became a frenzied mess when Nightkit wasn't found nearby. Her mate, Seedfur, insisted that he lead a central patrol; you couldn't tell that he was half-deaf, not by the way he darted through those weeping trees searching for his son. "I'll find him," The skinny black tom promised his mate, promised Cinderkit, promised everyone. "I'll find him, wherever he is."

The odds of finding Nightkit's lifeless body were becoming more and more likely. The thought was a bleak experience, though Yellowfang knew deep down it was pointless to think otherwise. Not all kits were rescued by an angelic bunch of warriors when they were cornered by rats. Lowering her head and sighing, Yellowfang followed Frogtail and Wildstorm to a deeper area of the woods.

The sound of thundering paws awoke Yellowfang from her thoughts. Looking up, the ferns swished and opened to reveal one of the younger apprentices, Foxpaw. The orange-furred she-cat was trembling from ear tips to tail, her thick pelt ruffled and ridden with burrs. Her green eyes, usually vibrant and holding a secret, were filled with terror. "You have to come quick!" The apprentice gasped, her voice thin and breathless as though she were running through the forest for a lifetime. "I found Nightkit!"

Wildstorm was on his paws in an instant. "Where?"

"Near Twolegplace," Foxpaw said hurriedly, though the young she-cat kept tripping over her words as if they were slippery stones. "A twoleg kidnapped him!"

"What?" Frogtail's thick neck fur was bristling. He began in the direction of the twoleg dens.

"What are we waiting for? Let's get over there!" Wildstorm began in the direction of the twoleg dens, his claws already unsheathed. Before he could get very far, Frogtail wrapped his tail around his shoulders. "What are you doing?"

"We'll never reach him in time!" The young warrior snarled. "And besides, we barely know where we're going! Let's report it to the camp first."

"We have Foxpaw as our guide!" The brown tabby tom protested.

Foxpaw, whose wit was usually sharper than claws, only remained hunched on the ground, her haunches visibly shaking. Frogtail waved his tail at the apprentice, "Come on. Let's get back to camp, and talk this over."

Wildstorm's eyes flashed with anger like a bolt of heat lightning. "That twoleg will make Nightkit a kittypet if we don't get a move on now."

"Will you two just shut it already?" Yellowfang hissed, her voice dripping with ice. "I'm sure all this arguing is going to save time, too! Frogtail, take Foxpaw back to camp. Wildstorm, do whatever it is you're going to do, StarClan knows you act on will."

Before Frogtail could escort Foxpaw back, Wildstorm called out to the orange she-cat, "Foxpaw, what did the twoleg look like?"

The apprentice, though undoubtedly worried, took a mere heartbeat to think clearly. "I don't think it was a grown up one," Foxpaw said, her voice wavering. "It had long fur, but only on its head, and it was the color of fallen leaves, like the red ones. And she had Nightkit struggling in her paws."

Yellowfang nodded, then gestured to Frogtail. "Get her back to camp," The dark-furred warrior mewed. "Have her tell her story to Stonetooth. See what he says."

"On it." The gray tom turned tail and disappeared into the marsh, with Foxpaw in tow. Wildstorm looked over at Yellowfang, the tip of his tail twitching, before he turned and followed the other two, leaving Yellowfang completely alone.

Well, not completely. A few heartbeats passed before Yellowfang could finally pinpoint the slight, scuffling noise she could hear from several tree-lengths away. Sighing with annoyance, the young she-cat called out, "Okay, you can come out now!"

In all honesty, Yellowfang couldn't scent the watcher through the overlapping smells of mud and plants and mushrooms, so she didn't know which cat was poised within the sparse, nearly nonexistent undergrowth. But eventually Raggedpaw slipped out from under a thickly grown thorn bush, his pelt lying as smooth and calmly as possible through the tears and the patches. "What was the point of hiding?" Yellowfang demanded.

Raggedpaw shrugged his broad, scarred shoulders. "I don't know. I figured Wildstorm and Frogtail would try to argue with me too if I came out." Though the words sounded like a joke, there was no amusement in his voice, and his eyes had a serious air to them. They flickered up to the sun briefly, then back to her face. "They'll never make it, you know that right?"

Yellowfang could see that stubborn scowl weighing down his face, and she knew that once Raggedpaw got determined about something, it was his way or nothing. "Oh, and what do you suppose we do?" The she-cat asked him outright. "Track down a twoleg? Do you know how many twolegs dwell in all those dens? We'll never find him."

"We could follow Foxpaw's scent." Raggedpaw said, pacing back and forth as if the plan was lying out on the forest floor in front of him. "If we reached there, we could probably scent Nightkit too, and then we could track him from there."

"You may be a good tracker," Yellowfang growled. "But this is too far. You can't find everything, you know."

"But I can try." Raggedpaw scratched his claws across the soft earth. "If you don't want to come, I will go without you. I don't need you. But it'd be appreciated if I didn't go alone. It's not like I'm invincible."

Yellowfang held back a scoff. This was a pointless mission. Tracking a twoleg in their own world? Seemed like madness, beyond madness. And yet... What if her Clanmates had shook her head when she went missing and thought the same about her? Those rats would have torn her to pieces. Nightkit wasn't a lost cause, not yet.

"It's insane." Yellowfang told Raggedpaw, lashing her tail at the situation. "You're insane too. But... I'll do what it takes to get Nightkit back."

Raggedpaw got that cheeky look for a heartbeat, the expression that hinted that he knew he had won. "You always come around." He flicked his tail before turning tail and thumping away in the direction of the Twolegplace.

* * *

The day was nearing sunset when Foxpaw's scent began to fade away on their trail. By then Yellowfang could barely sense the slightest trace of fear among the pine needles, but Raggedpaw's nose didn't leave the earth for a second, scuffling and snuffing the dust repeatedly for answers that were quickly disappearing. Yellowfang's spirits were all but dead as the sky began to turn from a pale, dewy blue to a light golden. "Raggedpaw." She said, but he continued to search for the scent once more. "Raggedpaw." This time, the fur along his spine twitched, but he still did not turn to her. She took a step closer, growing impatient. "Raggedpaw!"

The apprentice whipped around, his yellow eyes glowing hotly. "What?"

"Raggedpaw, don't make me tell you this..."

He shook his head, before eyeing the smooth dark spokes that stretched toward the sky, not quite as tall as trees, but clearly twoleg-made. He gathered his haunches and ignored Yellowfang's hiss of "Raggedpaw!" before he leaped, his claws snagging against the tall spikes, his hind legs scraping against the material as he struggled to pull himself up. He clung there for a heartbeat, unmoving, as Yellowfang growled, "Raggedpaw, this is hopeless."

"Empty words..." The apprentice grunted, the sturdy muscles beneath his ragged pelt straining as he heaved himself higher. "For someone who never even had hope in the first place." He brought himself to the very top, his hefty paws struggling to remain poised on the narrow line.

Yellowfang scrambled up beside him, her own claws slipping, but she eventually yanked herself up as well. "It's not that I never had hope," She objected, keeping her eyes on the ground below rather than the strange pointed tops that stretched in front of her, each marking a twoleg den. "I'm just trying to be realistic."

Raggedpaw stared at her, the outline of his rugged face highlighted by the flame-colored sky. Yellowfang thought she caught something genuine in his eyes, something other than hot-headed cockiness. This didn't happen often. "Who knows what will happen to Nightkit now." Defeat had thickened the apprentice's voice. "Who's to say the twoleg didn't kill him? We were fools to come, weren't we?"

Yellowfang rested her tail tip on his shoulder, surprised by how choked up he had become. "We tried," The young warrior told her former denmate. "We tried hard. But we can't save anyone. Not always."

"You're right," Raggedpaw muttered, staring at his paws. "Sort-" Suddenly the words dried up in his mouth. Yellowfang rose her sight, staring at the tabby's expression change within heartbeats. Suddenly, he turned and leaped down the tall spokes, until he was settled in the fresh green grass of the Twolegplace.

"What are you doing?" Yellowfang called down to him.

Suddenly the apprentice ran off between two of the square dens, shouting, "I've got him! I got the scent!"

Disbelieving, Yellowfang jumped, her teeth rattling when her paws slammed against the earth. Lashing her tail, she forced herself to follow him, desperately trying to banish the fear of being in such a place. Her apprentice moons were spent learning her territory and all that dwelled in it, but the Twolegplace was unknown ground. What if they became lost or worse?

She spotted Raggedpaw hunched in the corner, his ears prickled. Suddenly, Nightkit's scent flooded Yellowfang's nose, and her fur began to spike with excitement. Raggedpaw whipped his head backward, his bright eyes glinting in the dim light. "I see him!" The apprentice whispered shrilly. "Look!"

That's when Yellowfang heard squeaking, though the sound was foreign to her, not belonging to any cat or rat. Peeking her head around as much as she dared, Yellowfang saw a smaller twoleg standing beside one of the dens, though to her dismay, across a Thunderpath. Her russet red fur was long, though it seemed to hang past her lower back. "That's the twoleg Foxpaw described!" Yellowfang gasped, her paws beginning to shake. And sure enough, trapped in the twoleg's paws, was a squirming black ball of fur.

"Nightkit!" Raggedpaw hissed.

The tabby seemed ready to dash across the Thunderpath in that very instant, but Yellowfang had to draw her back with her tail. "We have to be careful!" She muttered into his ear. She couldn't say for sure how well the twoleg could hear, and she didn't want them to end up in that twoleg's grasp. "Even if we do get to the other side of that Thunderpath in one piece, it'll see us." Her eyes scanned the evenly kept squares of green, until she spotted a patch of clustered pale purple flowers. "There," She said urgently. "We hide in there, and work from that."

Raggedpaw looked at her, then looked back at the black span of danger that lay ahead of them. "On the count of three?" He dug his claws into the ground.

Yellowfang nodded. "One."

"Two." He said, his voice a distant echo.

"Three!" The two young cats leaped, their paws scraping against the hardened heated surface. The reek of monsters and twolegs threatened to overwhelm Yellowfang, but she pressed on, her mind a whirl of fear and terror. She was aware of Raggedpaw beside her, but that was it; the rest of the world was a blinding field of perils, all unknown and teeming with danger, until the solid flooring turned to soft stalks of grass beneath her paws. She practically fell into the bush along with Raggedpaw, but her relief didn't last for long. Her eyes peering through the thick tangles of vines and leaves, Yellowfang saw the twoleg's wide eyes trained on the bush, looking through the concealing plant for whatever made that noise. Nightkit was struggling against her chest, his legs wrangling in her grasp, but she grip was seemingly unbreakable.

"Well," Yellowfang mumbled, half to herself. "Now what?"

Raggedpaw didn't move. His eyes were trained on Nightkit, and when he spoke, he did not look away. "Twolegs like cats, don't they?" He murmured.

Yellowfang stared at him, flicking her ear for him to continue.

"What if we pretended to be kittypets?" The tabby whispered, his eyes still unflinching. "We could come out, purring, and maybe she'd be distracted."

Yellowfang's incredulous stare was focused on Raggedpaw's scarred pelt. "Uh... I don't think we're the kind of soft cats that could pass off as kittypets. You and me especially."

Raggedpaw let out a frustrated sigh, though the anger was not directed at her. "We're going to have to try. Just stay out of its paws. If it comes for you, claw it."

Raggedpaw made the first move. Stepping out of the bush, he let out a small meow. "Hey," He said, though Yellowfang could tell that his voice was wavering. His body was shaking, though not with terror, only mild fear. Yellowfang followed, breathing deeply, hoping to let Raggedpaw do all the talking. Though, she doubted the twoleg would understand even a word of what they were saying; after all, Yellowfang could not understand the squeaks and sounds that left its mouth. Raggedpaw took a timid step forward, and the twoleg turned its head to look at him. "Hey there." The apprentice said, flicking his tail lightly.

The twoleg's face seemed to visibly soften. A squeak that Yellowfang could only describe as delighted sounded out. Nightkit, still held against her chest, watched the two warriors with huge, terrorized eyes. Yellowfang stepped up, boldly, reaching the twoleg's legs. The creature stared down at the dark gray she-cat, and even Yellowfang noticed her grip beginning to slip. At that instant, Nightkit lashed out, his claws digging into the twoleg's paws. She released him with a cry of pain, and Nightkit landed on top of Raggedpaw's spine.

_"Run!"_ Yellowfang screeched. They turned on their paws and bolted across the Thunderpath, foolishly, but at the moment her mind was running too fast. The unfamiliar place suddenly became a pathway to those tall boards that lined the border of ShadowClan to Twolegplace, and when they reached them, they began to struggle back up the spokes.

"I can't climb it!" Nightkit shrieked. "Help me!"

Raggedpaw snagged Nightkit's scruff, heaving both his and his own weight. Yellowfang reached the top of the line, her eyes searching the trail they left behind. The twoleg was not pursuing them, much to her relief, and eventually Raggedpaw and Nightkit reached the top.

But it wasn't until they were tree-lengths and tree-lengths away from the Twolegplace before their pawsteps slowed, stopped. Raggedpaw set Nightkit down, but the young black kit pressed himself against Raggedpaw's fur. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." The kit weeped. "I didn't mean to go so far. Cinderkit was too afraid to go with me, so I went alone... And before I knew it, the twoleg just grabbed me."

Yellowfang pressed her nose to the top of his head. "We must get back to camp," She insisted. "Get us home. We can talk about all of this later."

So the cats pressed forward, Nightkit bumping between their legs, until the ShadowClan camp was in the distance. The apology felt bitter in Yellowfang's mouth, but she forced it out anyway. "I'm sorry I doubted you." She mewed to Raggedpaw. She wanted to say more, but nothing else seemed to come out.

Raggedpaw only looked at her, his whiskers twitching. "I guess we do make a pretty good team."

Quick, trembling pawsteps approached the cats at all times. Toadskip, Cloudpelt, and Hollyflower streamed towards them, their fur spiking up. "You've found him!" Hollyflower said shrilly. "You've found him!"

Nightkit ran forward, burying his face in Cloudpelt's thick white fur. The sunset sky was growing darker, and Toadskip waved his tail in excitement at the two young cats. "Let's head back." The warrior's eyes were gleaming. "Brindlestar will want to see this, no doubt."

Exchanging a satisfied look with one another, the two young cats followed the patrol until they reached the tangled briars that served as a barrier for their camp. Crowtail's cry of "Nightkit!" was heard, and the sound of fur brushing against fur was a pleasant sensation. Brindlestar only watched from beside the fresh-kill pile, her yellow eyes lighting up at the sight of the two cats.

"Where was he?" Crowtail said breathlessly when she detached herself from her son.

Raggedpaw gave the details, but Yellowfang's eyes were trained on Brindlestar, who made her way up to the top of the High Boulder. Her thin tortoiseshell pelt went well with the sunset sky, and even in her age the leader still looked magnificent. "All cats old enough to catch their own prey, meet beneath the High Boulder for a Clan meeting!"

Though many members of the Clan were still loose in the forest, whoever remained in the clearing gathered closer, their eyes flashing in the dimming light as their leader addressed them. "Two heroes traveled out today and brought back a kit when all hope was lost." Yellowfang found other cats inching away from them until it was only her and Raggedpaw alone in a circle. Brindlestar turned her sight on Yellowfang. "Yellowfang, we honor your wit and your strength, and ShadowClan thanks you for your quick-thinking and determination to bring Nightkit back. We can offer you the first pick of the fresh-kill pile once night-hunting patrols return, as well as all of our thanks."

Yellowfang dipped her head, the stares of her Clanmates leaving her basking in a warm glow. "Thank you, Brindlestar."

Brindlestar turned her head to Raggedpaw, who stared up at his Clan leader eagerly. "Raggedpaw," The old tortoiseshell mewed. "There is something else I can offer you. It has become evident to me that you have the strength and bravery needed for any warrior. Marshclaw, would you say that your apprentice is worthy of the title of a warrior?"

The senior warrior flicked his ear at his apprentice. "Yes, Brindlestar. He is ready."

Raggedpaw's eyes were gleaming and gleaming, and Yellowfang was half convinced they were going to fall out of his head. Brindlestar stood up and meowed, "I, Brindlestar, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in their turn. Raggedpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your live?"

The young tabby lifted his chin and said in a clear, unwavering voice, as if he had been practicing it for moons. "I do." If Yellowfang were entitled to speak, she would have said her words aloud, but instead she silently quipped, _What's it gonna be? Raggedpelt? Raggedfur?_

"Raggedpaw, from this moment on you will be known for Raggedpelt. StarClan honors your courage and your skill in battle."

_Huh. My bet was on Raggedfur._

Toadskip began the call, "Raggedpelt!" And Hollyflower and Mistface picked up the yowls, but with the missing warriors the voices seemed to echo in the quiet, dusk air. "Raggedpelt! Raggedpelt!" Off near the Apprentices' Den, Moonpaw watched silently with fury glowing in her amber eyes. She would mope for a quarter moon or so before she got over it and earned her warrior name as well. Her mentor Ravenflight must have noticed it, and the black-furred warrior flicked her tail at her apprentice as if to say, _It'll be your turn soon._

From her spot, Yellowfang noticed Brindlestar climb down the High Boulder and rub against Mistface's worn, withered body. "Strong cat already," The elder commented. "ShadowClan needs more warriors."

"We do." Brindlestar lifted her head and focused her gaze on the young warrior. "And I can tell the flame is still flickering."

* * *

**(A/N: Yeah, so, I lied. I said we would do some apprentice moons, but I'll confess something to you guys. I really disliked the Power of Three [except the end of Book 5 and all of Book 6] and every bit of Omen of the Stars, and what really contributed to it was the endless emphasis on the apprentice moons of the characters. So I stared at empty pages in a while trying to think of some kind of story for Yellow**_**paw**_** to be in, but nothing came to mind, but since Raggedstar is a central character, I added a bit of his **_**paw**_** days in [our at least the end of it]. Well, this is all I got for now. Until next time!)**


	9. wut even

_**Chapter 7**_

* * *

_Greenleaf came and went, giving life and _good spirits, only to snatch it all away leaving chilling breezes and empty bellies. With leaf-fall hanging on by a whisker and storms of hail and ice looming in the distant, future, ShadowClan found themselves ruffling up their pelts and their guard as the cold season approached. Yellowfang found herself pressed against her Clanmates, sharing tongues and exchanging good word, and while the warm days of greenleaf may be gone, the future didn't look as dark and dreary as once thought.

Mottlenose, her brother, was beside her. Her brother's round, innocent eyes that were the exact same shade of orange as Yellowfang's sparkled. "What a beautiful night." To Yellowfang, the night was freezing and far too icy for her tastes, but Mottlenose had a problem finding fault with anything. He was a cheery, kind-hearted cat, who would rather keep his claws unsheathed. He lifted his pink nose to the sky. "I like it when the stars shine. It's so peaceful."

The stars were dazzling that night, Yellowfang observed. They twinkled lightly like a field of a million fireflies, though she noticed that the moon was missing from the scene. Beside Yellowfang were Brackenfoot and Hollyflower, who were chattering lightly about some joke Hollyflower told earlier than Brackenfoot didn't get. Brackenfoot was an even-headed cat with a mild temperment, and Hollyflower was the exact opposite; she was scatterbrained, hyper-active, and sometimes she got so worked up over something she didn't even know where to place her paws. The two were the best of friends, yet they never seemed to go past more than that.

Amberleaf was curled up against Wildstorm, her flank rising slowly which suggested she was deep in a doze. Amberleaf was an aggressive cat whose wit was as sharp as her claws. She was already a warrior when Wildstorm was only a mewling kit in the nursery, though they ended up as mates anyway. Yellowfang could never picture the she-cat with kits, though, but who could say for certain?

Kits. Yellowfang found herself glancing over at the nursery more often than not. She tried to convince herself that she was merely looking out for Nightkit, whom was nearly ready to join the Apprentices' Den, because she felt a close bond with him after that day in Twolegplace. But hearing the kits squeak and squeal awoke a fuzzy feeling in Yellowfang's chest, teemed with softness and longing. She found herself looking forward to the day when she would be curled up among the pine needles and the moss, her own litter climbing over her back and toying at her tail. She knew she would some day bear kits for her Clan; in fact, it was expected of her. Her mother Dovefur was only moons away from the Elders' Den, and Mottlenose never took a liking to any of the cats within their ranks. Who else would further the line of flat faced cats in ShadowClan? Her kits would be so lovely too, this she already knew. She didn't know how long it would be before she would have kits, but she knew that someday she would be settled in the nursery, looking after her own litter.

Nettlespots poked her head out of the nursery now, her flecked head almost hidden in the tangles of thorns and nettles. She was due any day now with her last litter; Yellowfang remembered Sagewhisker's anxiety for the old queen, who was practically ready to join the Elders' Den herself. Older mothers were a higher risk for the kits. Crowtail however was a younger, agile warrior, and both her kits turned out well. Yellowfang wondered who else would have kits in the near future. Moonfur and Wolfpaw were practically glued together in days of late, and Smallfeather and Ravenflight were sharing tongues a lot more often.

"It's a shame Sagewhisker is too busy taking care of Mudpaw." Mottlenose mewed. He rolled onto his back, his soft, tufted white belly exposed to the stars. "But it's great that ShadowClan has such a brilliant Medicine Cat. Mudpaw will be cured in no time, and he'll be back up on his paws again!" Mottlenose had a special bond with his apprentice. Then Yellowfang's brother lowered his head and said in a lower voice, "Have you been around Sagewhisker lately?"

"Only occasionally." Yellowfang flicked her ear up. "Why? Is something the matter?"

Mottlenose looked away slightly. "She's been kind of distant. Reclusive. Any guess as to why?"

"She must be so busy. With leafbare coming and all that." Yellowfang snuggled deeper into Mottlenose's thick, kit-soft pelt.

"Maybe I should ask our mother about it." Mottlenose meowed, lapping at his snow-white chest.

The starry night casted a protected, peaceful aura over the cats that dwelled within the ShadowClan camp. It was nights like these that Yellowfang found herself living for; sure, she was all claws and sharp wit usually, but there were days where all she wanted to do was unwind with the presence of her kin. Her Clanmates around her were heavy-lidded, purring, some sleeping. But within the tranquil, harmonous surroundings...nothing seemed off.

The shadows projecting across the clearing suddenly seemed darker. The thick ferns and bushs seemed to bristle, though it didn't seem to be caused by an innocent flicker of wind. Slight sounds sent shivers running across Yellowfang's spine. The world around them seemed like a world of unknown.

_Why am I suddenly so unnerved?_

The first yelp was too far away to make out, and Yellowfang simply dismissed it as her overly active imagination. The second and third cry for help made her lift her head, prickling her ears. This was all fabricated, right-

_"Help...!"_

Yellowfang stood up suddenly, making Mottlenose slip from her shoulder. The cries were increasing in volume.

_"Somebody, please, help..."_

That's when Amberleaf was on her paws. "What was that?" The warrior said rustily, still shaking off sleep.

_"Help...!"_ The voice broke like a stone hitting still water.

"That's a cat's voice!" Wildstorm shouted. Both he and Amberleaf were on their paws in an instant, Brackenfoot and Hollyflower in tow. Yellowfang found herself stumbling after them, the wails of the unknown soul battering her ears like relentlessly. The sounds of the approaching cats seemed to bring on more shouts. The smell of blood suddenly replaced the scents of marshes and stone, and worse off, the particular scent of one of her Clanmates.

_Oh, StarClan, no._

Suddenly their paws came to a skittling stop. The reek of his blood threatened to overwhelm Yellowfang, especially after she made out the shape of the young warrior's body in the dark, dark night. The wound wasn't visible but the bloodscent was increasing at an alarmingly fast pace. Yellowfang locked eyes with the tortured warrior and felt herself beginning to panic.

"Frogtail." Brackenfoot whispered. The pale bracken-colored tom lowered himself to the injured warrior's side, pressing his shoulder against him. "Frogtail, what happened to you?"

Frogtail made some kind of gurgling noise, his voice choked with blood. "Attacked." He rasped, spitting onto the earth. "Rogues."

"Get help!" Hollyflower shrieked. Both Amberleaf and Wildstorm turned tail and dashed in the black shadows, their tail tips vanishing in the dark. Yellowfang slipped to Frogtail's other side in an attempt to help him up.

"Frogtail, you're going to have to try to walk." Yellowfang said in a tense voice, attempting to lift the tom to his paws.

"Can't walk." The words were strained with misery and pain. "I dragged..."

"We're losing him." Brackenfoot said urgently. "Come on, let's just carry him back!"

The brightly lit stars that shone over the ShadowClan marshes never seemed so cruel.

* * *

Frogtail died before dawn began to streak its pale glow over the sky. He lived for some time after he reached the ShadowClan camp, but not even the most skilled Medicine Cats can replace blood. Hunting patrols from the night darted to camp when they found his trail of blood from the dangerous side of Twolegplace, only to learn that their Clanmate had passed on in the night.

Yellowfang stood in the clearing, stunned, watching the way her Clan responded. There was no pity, no wallowing, and only little grief. This was a very different vigil then what she was used to; last moon, when Rosewood died after eating a poisoned mouse, the Clan was racked with sadness and melancoly. This time, the Clan breathed pure revenge.

"This is the last attack." Marshclaw snarled. Yellowfang had never seen the warrior so infuriated. "We caught them this time. And now we have a trail!"

"He said rogues, didn't he?" Lizardstripe muttered in her brother's tufted white ear. The glint of her claws was evident against the soft earth. "But they don't have any warrior training. How could they bring a cat down like that?"

Foxpaw stared at the Medicine Cat Den with wide, glazed eyes. Frogtail was Foxpaw's mentor, and the bond cats have with their apprentices can never be severed. _Except by death._

Brindlestar was silent on the matter. The elderly leader stood at the bottom of the High Boulder, her eyes set at the top, though she never made a move to leap to the top. Yellowfang felt breath fluttering the fur bunched at her ears, and she turned to see Raggedpelt standing behind her. "You saw it." The young warrior said stiffly. "What...What did you see?"

Yellowfang had gotten a much, _much_ better look at Frogtail's wounds when they had arrived back in camp. The sight of it never left her eyes. "He... His belly was slashed at, though they spared his throat, as if it would give him a longer death. His muzzle was flecked with blood and his pelt was stained scarlet. Part of his intenstines were hanging out..."

"I've heard plenty." Raggedpelt visibly shuddered. Yellowfang turned back and focused her eyes on the ground, though she knew Frogtail's bleeding body wouldn't leave her for a while. Why didn't she _do_ something? Helping to drag him back to camp to die wasn't help at all.

The cats around her were buzzing like furious wasps. All their words blurred into a rumble until Yellowfang could not pinpoint who said what.

"This is it, we have to do something."

"These have to be the same rogues that slaughtered Flameclaw."

"Who else could be next? No one is safe."

"What if they tracked us? They could harm our kits next!"

Finally, Dovefur stood up. "I've had enough of this." The elderly warrior stalked over to Brindlestar, who sat silently like a wisp of a ghost. "Are you going to do something about this?"

Brindlestar stared at her Clanmate evenly. "I don't plan on letting Frogtail's death be in vain."

"Fox-dung!" Dovefur snarled. She raked her claws against the clearing floor, leaving claw-marks in the damp mud. "We _never_ learned the full truth of Flameclaw's death! You tried to let us forget him!"

"I sent patrols." The Leader said patiently. "I went there myself, looking for answers in a place where none exist. I do not value any warrior's life over another."

"And what do you suppose we do?" Dovefur's eyes were burning coals. "Search again? What happens when we find nothing?"

"This time we have a trail." Marshclaw spoke up. "We can weed them out this time."

Brindlestar took a step towards Dovefur, who only glared and looked away. "I know Frogtail was your apprentice once." The tortoiseshell she-cat said softly. "He was our friend, our warrior, our Clanmate." When the older queen didn't respond, Brindlestar turned and leaped onto the High Boulder, gazing upon the ShadowClan warriors with flashing eyes.

"I don't know what we'll find beyond Twolegplace." Brindlestar said simply. "But I think we deserve to know what's been picking us off, one by one. These cats are cowards, and do not dare to venture out if we come in a group. But we're not waiting for them anymore. We will find them. We will seek them out. And when we do, we will tear out the throats of the cats who dared strike out against ShadowClan."

* * *

**(A/N: Sorry it's on the short side. I sort of fell into **_**Animal Crossing: New Leaf**_** lately so I've been busy. Heh. I'll do my best to keep posting more. Adieu.)**


End file.
